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Selected Poems (Perennial Classics) Paperback – March 3, 1999
| Edna St. Vincent Millay (Author) Find all the books, read about the author, and more. See search results for this author |
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- Print length192 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherHarper Perennial Modern Classics
- Publication dateMarch 3, 1999
- Dimensions5.31 x 0.43 x 8 inches
- ISBN-10006093168X
- ISBN-13978-0060931681
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About the Author
After graduating in 1917 she lived in Greenwich Village in New York for a few years, acting, writing satirical pieces for journals (usually under a pseudonym), and continuing to work at her poetry. She traveled in Europe throughout 1921-22 as a "foreign correspondent" for Vanity Fair. Her collection A Few Figs from Thistles (1920) gained her a reputation for hedonistic wit and cynicism, but her other collections (including the earlier Renascence and Other Poems [1917]) are without exception more seriously passionate or reflective.
In 1923 she married Eugene Boissevain and -- after further travel -- embarked on a series of reading tours which helped to consolidate her nationwide renown. From 1925 onwards she lived at Steepletop, a farmstead in Austerlitz, New York, where her husband protected her from all responsibilities except her creative work. Often involved in feminist or political causes (including the Sacco-Vanzetti case of 1927), she turned to writing anti-fascist propaganda poetry in 1940 and further damaged a reputation already in decline. In her last years of her life she became more withdrawn and isolated, and her health, which had never been robust, became increasingly poor.
She died in 1950.
Product details
- Publisher : Harper Perennial Modern Classics (March 3, 1999)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 192 pages
- ISBN-10 : 006093168X
- ISBN-13 : 978-0060931681
- Item Weight : 7 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.31 x 0.43 x 8 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #5,003,846 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #743 in Russian & Soviet Poetry
- #10,331 in Baseball (Books)
- #25,701 in American Poetry (Books)
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Her most famous lines are here "My candle burns at both ends...it gives a lovely light", her first famous poem is here "Renascance"--this spooky poem gained her a mentor and an education at Vassar--and also present are poems from "Fatal Interview" and "Epitath for the Race of Man". My favorite poems are the short ones that talk of love: these are the easy-to-read poems dismissed by the critics.
If you read this poem then you must read the potrait of Edna St. Vincent Millay in "The New Yorker" and the memoir "The Shores of Light" by Edmund Wilson, the later book reviewer for The New Yorker magazine.
Edmun Wilson was just one of ESVM many jilted suitors. But she let him down gently her said. His book describes how he found work for her at Vanity Fair magazine. ESVM evidently charmed all the men she came in touch with. The editor of Vanity Fair complained that he could not have both of his editors in love with the same contributor to the magazine.
Many of the ESVM poems here have to do with nature, like the poem "Spring". Perhaps this is because she moved out of Greenwich Village to the country and there she wrote collections such as "The Buck in Snow". When she got married and left the city she didn't lose touch with her circle of fans and hangers-on including Edmun Wilson. Wilson describes here there at her farm reciting her poetry--she knew all her poems by heart--to wide-eyed admirers.
Alot of her poems here have no title. I imagine she might have felt that the title could be a distraction to a poem. If you can't think of a good one then don't create one at all.
Finally, feminists certainly will be upset with lines like "I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind..." But this is good stuff and lets us peer inside the female heart. They are just like us men it appears "...feel a certain zest to bear your body's weight upon my breast". This stuff is just as erotic and passionate as Shakespeare's sonnets and lyric poems--well not quite but good enough.
Colin Falck, in the Introduction comments that Millay was under-appreciated by those who considered her technique too traditional, and her content lacking in intellectual complexity. Did any of these critics read her sonnets I wonder? I agree with Falck's conclusion that "it is time we found a proper place for this intense, thoughtful, and magnificently literate poet." To the merciless critics I would send Millay's own words... "Cruel of heart, lay down my song./Your reading eyes have done me wrong./Not for you was the pen bitten,/And the mind wrung, and the song written."



